Fury
by darksupernatural
Summary: Sam and Dean face off against a creature of myth. They do not come away unscathed. Hurt!Dean! Hurt!Limp!Sam! Much angst. Not part of Hunters and Guardians. Bobby's in it too. Set mid to late s2 after Hunted. Review, please! T for injuries.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Here's another story for you great people. Not part of my series Hunters and Guardians. After the trouble I had with the last installment of that, I decided, with Blue peanut M&M's help, that I needed to take a break from that. Had a major case of writer's block, which hopefully this fic did not suffer because of. Hoping you all enjoy the major Hurt Dean! Hurt Sam! and angst that this one offers. Again don't own 'em, just torturing them and breaking their spirits. I can return them to Kripke for counseling. I did put them on my Christmas list, though. Sadly, I don't think I've been good enough for Santa to come visit me.

Reviews are like Christmas presents. Enjoy!

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

**Fury**

**Chapter 1**

Daniel Holland was having a bad week. Here, as he sat in traffic in Portland everything he'd been through replayed in his head. He was a detective with a soon to be ex-wife, two kids that hated him, and as of today no job- thanks to the source that had fed him a bad tip and resulted in the death of a protected witness. Now he was stuck at one of the rush hour car wrecks that seemed to plague him this week.

"Stupid people can't learn to drive." He muttered irritably. "Some idiot takes out another idiot's bumper who then takes off a bozo's door and fender because his brakes suck. Idiots!" He spat, pounding his hand on the steering wheel. To top it all off, Daniel's migraine was getting worse and the buzzing in his ears seemed to become more incessant. His vision seemed to become hazy and red. "Damn useless, stupid people, taking up space and wrecking cars." Daniel felt rage boil through him at this lousy culmination of a lousier week. He replaced his hand on the wheel with his head and repeatedly bounced it hard off the wheel, part of him hoping to knock himself out so the buzzing would stop. Daniel shot his hands up to his closed eyes and beat on his head with his palms. He didn't see traffic begin moving ahead of him as emergency crews finally cleared the accident scene.

Daniel's mid nineties sedan suddenly jarred forward as it was plowed into from behind by a delivery van. His head painfully bounced off the steering wheel from the jolt. As he straightened he gave a yell of rage and flung his door open. He stalked up to the delivery van and jerked the dazed driver from the vehicle by his collar.

"Sorry man!" The annoying man squeaked as fear rocketed through him at the murderous look in the guy's eyes that had him by the throat. "Look, my company is fully insured, let me get you a phone number and…"

Daniel cut him off. "I don't want any stupid phone number!" He screamed in the man's face. "I want you idiots to learn how to drive! I want you to straighten out my bumper, now, with your face!" Daniel turned with the man's jacket still clenched in his hands and threw him headfirst into the wreckage where the van met the back of his car. The driver's head bounced off the crinkled hood of the van and he gasped in pain, sliding to the ground, dazed. Blood began to trickle unnoticed from Daniel's nose.

Daniel flew into another rage at the blood that had splattered onto his dented trunk lid from the guy's nose. He suddenly had his pistol in his hand and was seeing everything through a screen of red that pulsed around the edges. He cried out and put the pistol wielding palm up to his temple when the buzzing drowned out everyone's shocked cries as they got out of their cars and fled the scene of the gun brandishing, pissed off man.

"Hey buddy, I said I was sorry. My company will pay, just put the gun down!" The man with the bloody nose sputtered. All Daniel heard was a pulsing buzz that seemed to come from the man's mouth. Fury flared through him. He was now desperate to shut up the buzzing that came from all around him. Someone stepped up to him and grabbed the hand that held the pistol. He heard a sharp pain-bringing buzz near his ear. He turned to the sound and fired. He watched a man crumple to the ground with a hole in his chest. The van driver pushed himself to his feet and cried out when the shot echoed.

"God buddy, just put the gun down!"

"_Buuzzzzz buzz, buuzzzzzzzzz…"_ Daniel heard, now coming from the guy's mouth and echoing through his skull painfully. He screamed and fired at the man, sending three bullets into his face. The man fell to the ground. Daniel cried out as people screamed around him and he heard the buzzing increase tenfold.

"Make it stop!" He screamed, turning to fire at two sources of the hideous sound. Two more people dropped and all fell silent. Daniel raised the pistol to his head and silenced the buzzing in his brain.

SnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsN

_One Week Later_

Sam sat wedged uncomfortably at a smaller booth in a Mom and Pop type restaurant just outside Portland, Oregon. His long legs didn't want to cooperate after spending ten straight hours in the front seat of the Impala with his pain in the ass brother. He glanced at said brother, to find him up at the counter flirting with the waitress as their food; which rested in front of Dean was becoming cold. He groaned in frustration and finally untangled himself from the booth, earning several vicious cracks from various bones in his body. He stalked up to Dean and took the tray from him, returning to the booth. His brother looked at him and smirked before his eyes returned to the low cut top of the young waitress.

Sam sat and stared after his 'pig' brother. "Let him eat cold food." Sam muttered, putting two fingers up to his throbbing temple and rubbing absently. "Somehow I find myself just not caring right now." Sam sighed and took a bite of his slowly congealing hot roast beef sandwich, turning to look outside to the falling snow. A storm was supposed to hit and he wanted to be comfortably in the motel room before it did. They had found a hunt in the area but he hoped they could just relax for a few days after it was done. He hadn't been feeling quite right and had just about ran himself into the ground these last few months hunting everything that crossed their path, being hunted himself, and looking for Ava nonstop for these last couple weeks.

Dean sauntered back to the table and chuckled as he sat down opposite Sam, promptly kicking him in the shin as he put his own legs under the table. Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, wincing when the action hurt his head. _Okay, don't do that until after the Tylenol kicks in._ Dean was grinning as he took a bite of his own sandwich.

"What are you so chipper about?"

"Got a hook up later, Sammy. Name's Lea." He nodded at the waitress and Sam followed his eyes to see her swinging backside as she walked back around the counter to pick up her next order. Sam turned to glare at Dean.

"What?" Dean asked, swallowing french-fries he'd stuffed into his mouth. The word came out more _"Whuff."_

Sam shook his head and gave his brother a look that said _my brother is an idiot. _ "You do know Oregon is supposed to get hit by a blizzard, Dean."

"I plan on being nice and toasty where I am, Sam-my-man." Dean said with a smirk. "'Sides she only lives a mile from the motel. I'll let my baby in the parking lot so she doesn't get cindered by the road trucks."

"Smart. You're telling me you're gonna walk a mile to the motel in the snow?"

"No worries Sammy."

"No worries?! Dean, do you even remember that hunt in Montana a few years back? The one in January?" Sam remembered his horror when their dad came through the door carrying an unconscious, frostbitten Dean who had gotten lost in a blizzard trying to kill a Werebear.

"Vaguely. This isn't gonna be that bad. That was a hell of a storm."

"What about the job?"

"Plenty of time for both. You said it yourself, we're gonna be in town for a few days."

Sam shook his head, wincing again, and fell silent. They soon finished their meal and Lea brought their check. Dean handed her cash and smirked again, his eyes not quite going high enough to meet hers. "I'll see you after your shift." She giggled and walked away.

Sam struggled again to extricate himself from the booth, this time stepping on Dean's foot and feeling no remorse when Dean cried out. He cracked his aching neck and hunched his shoulders, placing his hands in his pockets to hold his jacket closer to him. He stepped ahead of Dean, who was limping slightly, and went out into the cold to the car. Snow had begun to fall in earnest now and the Impala had about two inches on her roof and windshield. It was a heavy snow, Dean realized, as he used a leather clad arm to brush off the windshield.

Sam turned around and glared at Dean as he felt a hard packed snowball crash into his pounding head. "Damn it Dean. What the hell are you, seven?"

Dean chuckled and unlocked his door. Sliding in, he reached for Sam's lock. Sam crawled in to be greeted by yet another smirk from Dean. "Samantha needs her nap."

"You're an ass." Sam muttered and allowed his head to drop back onto the seatback. Dean drove to the motel. He pulled up to the room but made no move to kill the engine.

"Go get some sleep Sam. I know it's been a long day."

"What? Where are you going now?"

"Pool hall. We're down to our last three hundred." He replied.

"Dean, no. Just come in the room. We can hustle pool after the storm. No one's gonna be at the bar anyway with the snow coming down like it is."

"Are you kidding? We passed it on the way back here. Parking lot's packed."

Sam was too drained to argue. Dean seemed to be in a good mood and Sam didn't want to spoil it. "Fine. Just be careful. Don't drink too much and don't piss anyone off. Get done and get out before you get made for a hustler."

"Yes, dad. Dude chill, I know the routine. 'Sides Lea's shift is over in three hours."

"You're still an ass." Sam got out of the car and watched as Dean pulled the Impala back out onto the road. It fishtailed a little in the still falling snow. Sam shook his head again and went into the room. He locked the door behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sam wearily dropped to his bed and scrubbed a large hand over his face with a ragged sigh. He forced himself to stand from the bed and grabbed sweats and a tee shirt from his bag, leaving them on his bed. He turned up the heat in the room and headed for the shower, vowing to take more Tylenol after he cleaned up.

Sam turned on the water as hot as he could stand and stripped off. He caught a look at himself in the mirror and grimaced a little, noticing new scars and dark circles under his eyes. _ I hope I'm not getting sick. Being in this room with Dean until the roads are passable is gonna be bad enough. I don't need the flu, too,_ he thought sullenly to himself as he stepped under the hot spray and felt chills skitter across his flesh. He pulled the curtain shut tightly to keep the chilly bathroom air out of the shower and let the heat seep into his bones. Sam moved under the spray to wash his too long hair and felt his head throb when the water connected with it. _Okay, bad idea. _ Sam decided to forgo washing his hair to keep his brain from rebelling. He vaguely wondered if the headache that wouldn't leave was a precursor to a vision.

"God, I hope not." He muttered as he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a large clean towel about his waist. He dry swallowed two more Tylenol and went to get dressed. The bedroom was surprisingly warm and Sam again marveled at how they'd gotten lucky enough to find a respectable room with wi-fi and working heat to wait out the storm.

Sam dressed in the gray sweats and blue tee shirt, deciding to pull on socks to keep his feet warm. He rifled through his bag and came up with his last pair of clean ones. He pulled them on and made a mental note to do laundry as soon as the snow passed. The thought about the snow made him move to the window and look out. It was falling heavily, coming straight down in huge flakes. Another two inches had built up on the surfaces outside and he decided to call Dean. He dialed Dean's number and listened to the ring, pulling the phone slightly away from his ear as the tone caused him pain.

"_This is Dean, leave a message." BEEEP._

Hey Dean, the snow is starting to pile up. I know you're probably having fun but take a look outside and call me back. I'm going to bed. I have a headache. I'll hear my cell so call me. Don't be an ass about this; you know that car is not the best thing in a snowstorm. Call me." Sam ended the call and dropped the phone on his bed as the pain in his head flared again.

"Gahhd!" He cried out as he clutched a hand to his head. He blinked furiously to clear his vision when a sound echoed through his pounding skull. Cold air rushed over him and he looked up to see a hideous creature standing before him. It was humanoid but very ugly. Its skin was grayish and it wore tattered rags over its feminine figure. She had ragged edged, bat-like wings that vaguely reminded Sam of drawings he'd seen somewhere of Gargoyles. Her hair was moving, writhing as if alive. Sam noticed through his pain that the matted locks appeared to have the look of snakes. He felt sick to his stomach as the pain in his head intensified and clouded his vision of the thing before him. He lurched to his feet from the bed and bolted for the weapons bag, which was resting on Dean's still made bed. Her red eyes followed his movement, and as he reached for the bag she stepped forward and knocked him to the floor between the beds. The bag crashed with him. Pain erupted through his elbow as it landed on the pack, striking something hard inside. His gun hand went numb from the blow.

Sam quickly opened the bag and rifled through it, coming up with a small silver dagger, the only thing his tingling hand could come across. The creature flipped him onto his back and he slashed blindly with the small knife. She knocked it from his hands and he gasped in pain as her talons raked his wrist. The knife skidded under Dean's bed and way out of his desperate reach as she straddled his chest to hold him down. Sam began to thrash, trying to throw her off. She wrapped her hands around his throat and began to squeeze. Sam struggled with the force cutting off his air supply. He stilled when he felt the talons begin to dig into his neck painfully. Blood oozed down the sides of his neck to collect at the back and drop onto the gray carpet.

He rasped in a breath as the creature extricated her claws from his swelling, bleeding throat. A buzzing started in his head as his vision swam. Sam thought he heard a voice. It was female, a raspy, dead sounding voice. The buzzing intensified as the voice whispered.

"_I feel your anger at your brother and his dismissal of you and your concerns. You want vengeance. You want to make him pay for being so careless. You want him and all the others to realize that you are not to be walked on. Use your anger. Teach Dean Winchester the lesson he deserves to be taught."_

The creature stroked Sam's cheek with her fingertips almost gently, and the buzzing grew so loud in Sam's head that he heard nothing else. The pain gave way to a beckoning darkness and he succumbed to it. The creature stood from where she straddled Sam's chest and went back out the broken door, leaving it open in her wake. Snow began to blow in, covering the floor, melting slowly as the heater in the room struggled to keep up with heating a room that had a progressively dropping temperature. Sam didn't notice when he began to shiver, snow drifting around him now as the wind blew more into the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dean had gotten Sam's message after raising several hundred dollars in much needed funds from three games of pool and then moving on to two very pleasurable hours with the lovely Lea. He was still in Lea's house when his phone beeped. Dean listened to the message tag and wondered why it had taken three hours for it to come through. He listened then to Sam's message and realized the snowstorm was playing with cell phone service. He went to one of Lea's windows as she came out into her warm living room in nothing but a silk robe. She wrapped her arms around him from behind. Dean snapped his phone shut as he realized just how bad the storm had gotten.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I gotta be getting back to my room at the motel. My brother is panicking. We're from Texas and the boy has never seen snow." Dean lied to her with ease and left. He waded snow, up to his shins now, as he brushed another four inches from the windshield of the car. He got in and fired the engine, not waiting for her to warm up. He pulled out into the road and noticed everything looked deserted. His were the only tracks in the snow covered roadway as he made his way slowly, spinning every few hundred yards, towards the room and Sam.

Dean finally made it the mile back to the motel room, struggling to see clearly in the swirling snow and barely managing to keep the car on the road. He was wishing for a beer by the time he made it to the room. "Oh Baby, I love you but you do suck in the snow." Dean said aloud, talking to his car as he put the gearshift in park. Snow had the world immediately around him caught in a white out. He opened the door and trudged through snow to the motel room door, cursing when the cold flakes managed to find their way down his boots. The wind switched direction and blew the snow away for a moment. Dean looked up to find the door to their room hanging wide open. Dean's heart jumped into his throat.

"Son-of-a…. Sam?!" He cried as he lurched through the snow and then through the open door, promptly into a freezing room and another snowdrift. It had piled into the room several inches deep in a few places. Dean turned to shut the door and noticed it was broken. He pulled the small side table to him to hold the door shut. "What the hell? Sammy?" He called, getting no response. He worked his way past the worst of the snow that had drifted into the room and moved between the beds.

"Sammy!" Dean's eyes fell on his brother in horror. He was lying on the floor on his back. Some snow had swirled in around him. The weapons beg lay strewn across the floor and partially under Sam's still body. Dean dropped to his knees beside his unconscious brother on the snow covered gray carpet and touched him. He was so cold to the touch that pressure from Dean's fingers left white spots on his arm that were slow to fade. His lips were tinged with blue and he was beyond shivering. "God Sammy. What happened?" Dean hefted him to the bed and quickly covered him, pulling off his own blankets to aid in spreading warmth to Sam. He turned the heater up as high as it would go and hurried to where the little coffeemaker rested on the table in the corner of the room. He grabbed the pot and headed to the sink to fill it with water. He'd noticed ample packs of hot chocolate, tea and instant coffee beside the appliance when they'd checked in. They would come in handy now.

Dean poured the water into the coffee maker and headed back to Sam's side after turning it on. He heard the water begin to boil and fill the pot beneath with clear, near boiling water. Dean turned his attention to his brother who was struggling to breathe. Dean noticed bruising and blood on his neck. "What the hell?" Dean dug the first aid kit out of his bag and dressed what looked like claw marks on his baby brother's neck. Sam was still way too cold. Dean rushed to the table and opened a packet of hot chocolate mix, dumping it into a mug that rested on the table. He poured the steaming water over it and stirred it with the spoon that rested in a little basket nearby. He put a little creamer into it to cool it slightly and took it to Sam.

"Come on bud." Dean sat the steaming mug on the bedside stand and lifted Sam's head and shoulders, supporting him against his chest. "Need you to drink this Sammy, c'mon." Dean raised the mug to Sam's lips and tipped it, getting little past his still blue tinged mouth. "Little brother, listen to me. I need you to drink this. I gotta warm you up." He tried again and was rewarded when Sam swallowed convulsively, the hot liquid hitting home in his stomach. "Slow, kiddo. Take it slow. I don't need you sick." Sam took another sip as Dean tipped the mug again. The blue tinge was leaving Sam's mouth and Dean noticed him beginning to breathe easier. "Good Sammy." Dean said as he settled Sam back on the bed after half the mug of steaming chocolate was gone.

Dean moved to the heater and adjusted it to the now warm room. He left it on to keep circulating the heat and quickly went to the car for a shovel. He had a lot of snow to move back into the raging storm where it belonged. They would have to pay for damages if the snow melted and ruined anything in the room. After shoveling it back out the broken door he wedged the little table against it and changed out of his wet jeans. He turned on a sound coming from the other bed to find Sam tossing violently. He was shivering horribly and appeared to be caught in a nightmare. Sam gasped. Dean was at his side.

"Easy Kiddo. I'm here." Dean eased Sam upright slightly and moved behind him to sit on the bed. He placed Sam's back against his chest and wrapped his arms tight about Sam after adjusting the covers around the both of them. Dean settled back and waited until Sam's shivering eased. He was beginning to sweat. Dean eased him back to the bed and checked him for fever. Finding none, he pulled off a couple of covers and placed them haphazardly on his own bed. Sam stirred.

"Mmmmnn… Dean?" Dean was back at his side.

"Yeah, Sam. I'm here. What the hell happened?" Sam's eyes snapped open at Dean's tone.

"You left me here, with such a headache I couldn't defend myself. That's what the hell happened! You left to have fun with some freakin' waitress and some pool player."

"You didn't tell me you were sick. I wouldn't have…"

"Save it for someone who wants to hear it Dean." Sam said, tiring even as he pushed himself upright on the bed. His arm hurt when he put pressure on it. He winced and shifted to ease the pain. Dean caught his action as the covers fell about Sam's sweat clad waist.

"What happened to your arm?" He asked softly as he came to sit beside Sam on the bed, looking at the swollen and bruised elbow joint.

Sam sighed. "Something came into the room and attacked me."

"I gathered that from the claw marks around your neck. Any idea what it was?"

"Not sure. I need to do some research. I saw the thing so I'll start with a search by description."

"Think it's related to the job here?"

"I don't know, maybe." Sam shook his head to clear it of the slight buzzing that was nagging him and stood from the bed. He wavered and Dean caught him.

"Maybe you should lie down for a while. Tell me what the thing looks like. I'll run the search."

"I'm fine!" Sam snapped as the buzzing increased and made him irritable.

"Fine." Dean replied, slightly worried about his brother. He thought for a minute and chalked it up to Sammy's usual mood. Just in case, Dean decided to keep a closer eye on his brother.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Sam had been researching for a while. Dean feigned resting, propped up on his bed looking at his brother with hooded eyes. Every few minutes he would see a scowl cross Sam's features and then his brother would shake his head slightly. Suddenly Sam growled and stood from the table, turning from the laptop. He smashed his fist into the plaster before Dean could stop him. He staggered and cried out in pain as it jarred his bruised elbow. Dean caught him and eased him to the floor as he clutched at his head.

"God Sammy! What's going on with you?" Sam didn't respond. He continued to clutch at his head as the buzzing intensified. He heard a whispered voice. That same feminine voice in his head; rising just above the buzz that was assaulting his brain.

"_Tell your brother what's bothering you Sam. Let him know how tired you are of being looked down upon, walked all over. Show him how tired you are of it. Make him pay Sam."_

"No… Dean….laptop…" Sam struggled to form a sentence around the pain in his head. Every word coming from him was punctuated in his head by that awful buzzing he felt was driving him mad. Dean glanced up to where the laptop rested on the table top and then back at Sam as he pitched forward in Dean's arms.

"Sam…" Dean eased him back upright and saw he was barely conscious.

Sam's mouth began to move as Dean watched on. Dean heard nothing even as he strained his trained hunter hearing to take in any possible sound of distress coming from his little brother. _ Is he having a vision?_ Dean wondered to himself. He leaned closer to his brother's still moving mouth until he felt Sam's warm breath ghost over his cheek.

"Make it stop…make it stop….." Sam whispered, barely audible to Dean's ears.

"Make what stop Sammy?" Dean asked concern etched over his features. Sam just groaned as his eyes rolled back in his head and he pitched forward in Dean's arms again.

"Sam?!" Dean caught him and lifted him to his feet. He lowered his unconscious brother to the bed and checked his pulse. It was strong but a little fast. He had a slight fever. Dean moved to the bathroom and got two Tylenol out of the bottle. He put them in one of the disposable cups resting on the sink and ran a small amount of cool water in on top of the pills. He swirled the cup to help the tablets dissolve. When they were gone he went to the bed and lifted Sam's head, helping him swallow the dissolved painkillers and water. He let Sam rest and went to the laptop to check out what Sam had obviously found.

Dean read the page of information Sam had come up with. "What the… Furies?" He read on further, muttering to himself.

_Furies are avenging goddesses that punished wrongdoers by using the person against them who'd been the victim. They infiltrated the person's mind and filled it with a rage that built until the person lashed out at those who hurt him or her. The rage intensified with each moment spent thinking about the situation that had led to the hurt and the person would snap. Furies are identified by their snake-like hair, tattered wings and blood red eyes. They possess sharp talons and can inflict damage on the person they're infecting if met with resistance. Most commonly avenged by the furies was wrongdoing committed within families. They took particular delight in punishing someone who hurt blood relation._

"Oh crap." Dean said. He had his phone in his hand a moment later and was dialing a number he hadn't called in a while. A gruff voice answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Bobby, its Dean."

"Hey, Dean. Been a while. Everything okay with you boys?"

"Not really Bobby. You know anything about Furies?"

"Greek goddess Furies? Why do you ask?"

"That's what we're hunting. In Portland, during a blizzard."

"Dean, this is some serious crap you boys have gotten yourselves into here. You gotta watch them things. They can spread their rage to anyone within reach that has felt wronged recently."

"I know, Bobby, it got Sam."

"What?!"

"How can I help him?"

"How bad is it affecting him? How the hell did you stumble onto this hunt anyhow?"

"A couple days ago Sammy came across this article that told about a guy, a detective, going postal during a car accident and killing four people before offing himself. Guy was rear ended by a delivery truck and yanked the guy out of the van, beat him up some and put three bullets in his face. He was screaming the whole time, ranting about how people needed to learn how to drive. We thought maybe it was a demonic possession road rage type thing. I was…out… after Sam and I argued about this damn snowstorm, and the thing broke into the motel room and infected him. He saw it and figured out what it was."

"How bad is he?"

"He's snapped at me a few times. He punched a wall. He has a headache and slight fever. I thought he was having a vision. He went all spacey on me and just kept whispering 'Make it stop.' Then he blacked out on me. It's just little stuff so far."

"Where are you?"

"The Meadow Mountain Inn. Around back, room eighteen."

"Listen to me Dean. I'm gonna try and make my way to you in this storm. We gotta stop this Fury before the rage builds up in Sam. Dean, it will kill him if we don't stop it. No one who's been infected by her rage survives. After they snap they go suicidal or their bodies give out, heart attacks and such. Their bodies can't handle the strain."

"God Bobby. What the hell can I do until you get here?"

"Keep him under if you can. Nothing strong. Knock him out if ya have to. No Morphine. Dean, I hate to suggest this but it may be best if you tie him up. If he can't fight it on his own it'll get worse and since you two fought earlier odds are she infected him with the notion that you wronged him. You'll be his target."

"Yeah okay." Dean said perplexed and hurt by the thought that he had to tie Sam up. "Bobby?"

"Yeah kid?"

"Get here as soon as you can. Be careful though." Dean snapped his phone shut and went to the Impala for some rope. He was back in a few minutes and was downhearted to see that another four inches of snow had fallen and it showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. Dean moved to the bed with the cold rope in his hands. He let the heat in the room warm it while he tore up a towel to wrap around Sam's wrists to protect them from the rope. He wrapped Sam's wrists and looped the rope around them taking it under the bed and to his other wrist where he repeated the process. When Sam was tied, hands and feet, spread-eagled on the bed Dean sat beside him and brushed his bangs from his eyes, pulling the blanket over his arms and up to his shoulders.

"I'm sorry Sam. I don't want to do this, but something's not right with you and I can't let it get worse. Bobby's on his way. We're gonna help you. I swear it. I'm sorry we fought Sammy." Dean's breath caught as Sam turned his head into Dean's palm. His face scrunched up in pain and he turned his head away. Dean's stomach lurched. "Easy kiddo. Don't you give in to this, okay? I know you can fight this bitch Sammy." Dean moved away from Sam going to make himself a cup of instant coffee. It was bitter but still helped to center him some. His brother being okay was the only thing that would make Dean truly feel better.

An hour after he was tied Sam stirred on the bed. He felt the incessant buzzing rip through his skull first. Then came the feeling of his movement being restricted when he felt the extreme need to clutch at his pounding skull. His eyes shot open at the realization that he was tied up and he came face to face with Dean.

"What the hell, Dean? Why am I tied up? Why do you insist on hurting me?" He asked quietly. The buzzing intensified again and he squeezed his eyes shut, pain making him fight the bonds. He groaned and tossed his head.

"Sam… shhh. I'm doing this to help you. The Fury is what attacked you. The bitch infected you with her rage. Bobby's on his way, we're gonna help you, but he says you need to stay calm and relax. I need you to fight her, Sam. Fight the whispers."

A look of unadulterated rage flickered across Sam's features at Dean's words. "You're just pissed because I pulled you away from your evening with that waitress. It's pretty pathetic, Dean, having to tie me down so you can berate me without getting decked. What did you do, drug me?"

"Sam, you know that's not you talking. Fight it Sammy."

"Let me loose and I'll fight. You need to be taught…" Sam's features lost their angry tension and he went slack against the bonds. "God Dean… my head… the buzzing is driving me crazy. Make it stop, please." Tears leaked from his eyes and trailed to the pillow behind his head. "Please, Dean just…make it… stop."

Dean reached for the first aid kit and withdrew a bottle of sedatives. He refilled the plastic cup in the bathroom and went back to Sam's side. His little brother was tossing his head again, now sweating. "Sammy? Kiddo, can you take this? It's just a sedative. It'll help you sleep and you won't hear the buzzing. If you don't hear it you can fight it."

Sam's face contorted again and he used his head to knock Dean's hand away. "You stay the hell away from me! I don't want you touching me. God only knows what you're trying to give me. You want to hurt me, not help me. It's probably poison. You get your kicks that way don't ya? Hurting me gets you off. You like the power, the rush you get from grinding me beneath your heel. I'll make you pay for doing that." Sam fought the bonds again, straining against the rope. Dean saw the sliding knots he'd deliberately used get tighter around Sam's wrists as he struggled with the ropes.

Dean said nothing as his heart quietly broke at his brother's words. Sam slackened against the ropes and lay there panting. "Dean…help me." Sam finally managed to beg. Dean didn't wait for the Fury's rage to take hold again. He gave a responsive Sam the sedative and a mouthful of water. Sam took it gratefully and rested. Dean sat beside him and watched him fight for a minute longer. "Dean, I'm sorry. Please. I don't mean what I'm saying. I can't control it. Don't let her use me to hurt you. If I get loose and you can't stop me… please, Dean. Don't let me hurt you." Sam's eyes closed and his body went slack, pain lines leaving his face as he finally rested, the buzzing in his head abating under the power of the sedative. Dean once again brushed his hair out of his eyes and loosened the ropes that had tightened around his wrists enough to make his fingers grow cold as circulation was cut off to the digits.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Dean started as Whitesnake's _Judgment Day _broke the silence in the room with its pounding rhythm. He made a mental note to change his ring tone as the thought he somehow deserved this flickered across his brain.

"Yeah?"

"Dean? You guys okay?" It was Bobby.

"So far. It's getting worse but I have Sammy sedated."

"How's it getting worse Dean?"

"It's like he's possessed. He goes on these rants when the buzzing gets too loud for him to handle. Then it's like it leaves him and he's crying and begging …" Dean's voice broke "… for my help." Dean ran his hand over his spiky hair.

"Listen Dean. I'm gonna try to make it through to you boys but it's gonna take a while. All the main roads are only open to emergency traffic and the others are closed to everybody. I'm gonna help you boys, I promise. Just try to keep him out and stay alert Dean, this is gonna get worse before it gets better and soon the rage'll have him where the drugs won't work. Don't let him get his hands on you. Hit him if you have to, to stop him."

"Yeah Bobby, thanks." Dean snapped his phone shut. He had paced the length of the room without even realizing it while he was talking to Bobby. He moved back to his brother's side after hanging up with Bobby. His brother was now sweating profusely, pain lines giving him a pinched look as the color left his face. Dean brushed a thumb over his forehead. "You hang on. I know you can fight this. Don't you give up. I swear Sammy, I'm gonna make this bitch pay for what she's doin' to you." Dean moved to the bathroom and came back with a washcloth. He bathed Sam's face with the cool cloth.

Sam's eyes rolled behind their lids and he moaned. As Dean moved to bathe his face again he twitched and began straining against the ropes. His eyes snapped open and Dean tried to jump back as he caught sight of Sam's rage filled gaze. Dean heard a rope snap and then he was flying backwards as Sam shoved him hard. Dean's back caught the wall near the bathroom door and he sagged to the floor with a choked gasp of pain. He dissolved into a coughing fit until he caught the breath that had been knocked from his body. Sam sat up on the bed, his face a twisted mask of hatred. He untied the knots that bound his other wrist and then threw back the covers and moved to free his feet. Dean tried to force his way to unsteady feet and felt pain shoot through his body. He began coughing and fell back to the floor. He was jerked upright by Sam, whose rage twisted face was hardly even recognizable.

"Sammy." Dean gasped out just before Sam's knee connected with his chin, causing him to fly backwards again. He landed on his back on the floor inside the bathroom doorway. "Nuughhh… Sam…. Fight it. Fight her bro." Dean wheezed.

"Why should I? So I can go back to being the pathetic, dependant baby brother you seem to take so much glee in hurting? So you can just use me for a punching bag next time I piss you off again? I don't think so. I think I'm gonna teach you a lesson Dean. When I do the buzzing will leave me in peace. My life will be the way I want it. Quiet. Free from hurt." Sam kicked Dean in the ribs as he rolled over and tried to push himself upright. Dean cried out in pain as he felt a rib give beneath the assault.

"Sam-my." Dean whispered as he looked up at his brother's hate marred face. He met Sam's eyes, trying to get through to his brother. Sam stilled, meeting Dean's eyes in return. Sam couldn't speak as emotion overwhelmed him. Hate ruled his mind and he saw everything through a haze of red, but something else broke through. _Dean? God, please help me. I'm hurting you and I can't stop. The buzzing is killing me. Make it stop. Please Dean you have to stop me. I want to fight her but I'm not strong enough. I'm so sorry. She's gonna win if you can't stop me._ _Please stop me_.

Sam looked deeply into Dean's eyes, silently sharing the words in his head with his brother. He begged for help with his eyes as the hazel orbs swam with tears. His face went lax, the anger marring it disappearing. "Dean…." Sam whispered. "Help me?" _I don't think I'm worth being helped. I've hurt you. I hope you'll try, though. Please don't let me kill you. Don't let me become the monster I'm so scared I already am._ Sam slumped to his knees on the floor as blood seeped from his nose to run down over his lips. It was the time Dean needed. He gained his unsteady feet and lurched to the weapons bag that lay open and neglected on the floor. He pulled a pistol from the bag and turned on his brother. He raised the pistol and aimed at Sam's chest where he kneeled on the carpeted floor. Sam looked up at him with such sorrow in his eyes. There was a spark of something else there in the hazel depths that Dean saw. _A silent thank you._

That silent exchange was all that he needed, to know his brother was still fighting the Fury's control. Dean stepped close to Sam and saw a tear trickle from his eye. The thank you held there grew stronger as Sam reached for Dean's love and understanding. Dean looked at Sam and let the tears he'd been struggling with fall.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"I'm sor-ry. I can't." Dean whispered on a choked sob, his voice breaking. He turned the gun in his hands and quickly swung to connect with his brother's temple. The butt of the pistol connected high enough to hit in a relatively safe area for Sam. It incapacitated him, bringing blood and knocking him unconscious, but doing no permanent damage. Dean slid to his knees beside his bleeding brother and pulled him to his chest, cradling him there and dissolving into sobs. His brother's words of hurt still ringing in his ears. _I let him down again. He was begging for me to save him. To do whatever it takes to free him form his agony and I couldn't. I just couldn't. I can't lose him. I can't kill him. I'd rather die. Forgive me Sammy. I just can't. I'll find another way to save you from this. I swear._

Dean's broken rib screamed in pain but he lifted his unconscious baby brother from the floor and eased him to the bed. He got the last of the rope and retied his brother to the bed, this time looping the rope around his chest and the bed. Dean then moved to tie his feet, again wrapping the rope over the appendages before tying off the tight knots. He dry swallowed four Tylenol and grabbed the first aid kit to clean the injury he'd inflicted on his brother.

He cleaned the wound, thankful that a few pieces of butterfly tape were all that was required. Guilt lanced through him at the bruising that was beginning to appear around the injury. Dean stroked a thumb gently over Sam's forehead. He moved to sit on the other bed as he stared at his brother; taking in the dark circles under his eyes and the slight tremor his hands emitted. He watched, unwavering for his brother to show some sign of waking from the pistol whipping he received. Sam remained still.

Dean felt the pain in his broken rib recede as the pain pills kicked in. He stood and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling up the black t-shirt he wore beneath the army green button down. His right side, where Sam had kicked him was a mass of black bruises and swelling. He knew the rib was broken. He pulled the flat sheet from his bed and used his pocket knife to cut slits in the edge of the fabric that allowed him to rip off several strips. The pain flared at the activity and the slight jarring that occurred as the fabric tore in his strong hands but he soon had his ribs bound tightly and the pain eased. He settled in to watch over Sam. The snow continued to fall outside, obscuring the things that go bump in the night behind a cloud of silent white.

Dean took two more Tylenol and made some coffee for himself with the remainder of the hot water, several hours after the fight with Sam. Then he went to the bathroom and put more cool water on the washcloth he'd thrown in the sink. He went to Sam's bed and bathed dry blood from his nose and lips. Sam stirred slightly, a pain line cutting a groove between his eyebrows. Dean continued to bathe his face and forehead, carefully avoiding the tender area and the butterfly tape.

"Sammy? C'mon Sammy, wake up for me, huh? Tell me you've beaten this. I can't watch you go through this. If I find that bitch I'm gonna tear her apart for what she's doin' to you."

Sam's eye lids fluttered and opened to slits. His hazel eyes were over bright, but cloudy with pain. The tremors in his hands had increased. "De—ean?" Sam croaked around a very dry throat. Dean hurried to the bathroom to get him some water. Returning to his side he eased down to his knees and lifted Sam's head, giving him a drink. He coughed and sputtered.

"Shh-shhh. Easy, easy." Dean whispered, and stroked Sam's cheek as he pulled the water away and lowered his head to the pillow again.

"I don't feel so g-good. I can't fight her any-m-more."

"Shhh- don't talk like that. Don't. You'll be fine Sammy. I promise." Dean whispered again, with tears in his voice.

"Why… didn't you kill…me? I begged you… kill m-me."

"Never. You hear me? I'm gonna save you. I'm gonna save you, no matter what." I just need you to hang on. I'm gonna help. Bobby's on his way. We're gonna beat this, you hear me?"

Sam nodded and his eyes closed. He swallowed hard. "Dean, I hear it again. The buzzing…getting worse. Put me under again. Dean, please… I don't want to….hurt you. Nuuhh…." Sam cried as his eyes screwed tight. His head tossed to the left and tremors coursed through him, gaining violence as he began to seize against the ropes.

Dean moved to ease Sam's convulsions, holding him still but not restricting the movement of his limbs any more than the rope did. He continued to thrash as Dean muttered soothing words to him, leaning close to his ear to get the words through. He stilled and sighed, going limp on the bed. Dean looked for the rise of his chest to indicate he'd fallen asleep. He waited…. it never came.

Dean shook him gently. "Sammy? Sam?! No-no, no-no-no, don't do this." Dean shook him again. "Don't you do this! Dammit Sam!" Dean eased his head back and cleared his airway. "Don't you leave me! Not after all this." Dean blew a breath into Sam's mouth once; and again. He threw back the covers and massaged Sam's chest, rubbing his knuckles along his sternum, trying desperately to get a reaction. He felt Sam's heart thumping beneath his breastbone. It was too fast, trying to compensate for lack of oxygen. Sam finally gave a gasp and started to breathe again.

"That's it. That's it bud." Dean turned Sam's head to the side to ease his breathing. He breathed himself. He knelt on the carpet and put his head on the pillow beside his brother's. He breathed deeply despite his ribs and felt himself begin to doze.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Dean was dreaming, more like a nightmare. He felt himself on his knees and heard his brother whispering in his ear. "I'm gonna kill you. She's here and her words make me realize I'm better than you. You can't walk on me if you're not breathing anymore. You're dead. She's gonna cut me loose and I'm gonna cut you out of my life." The sadistic whispers jarred Dean from his restless sleep. He jumped back, stifling a cry as he saw Sam's hate filled eyes boring into him, burning alive what little was left of his soul. Dan backed away, gaining his feet and stumbling away from Sam as the nerves came screaming back to life.

"You're dead, Dean. I'm gonna enjoy teaching you a lesson."

"No Sammy, fight. Fight that bitch. You gotta snap outta this. We can get past this. I know you don't mean what you say. It's the Fury. She's using you, feeding off your hurt. I deserve your anger but you don't want to kill me. She's making you say this. Fight Sam."

"I'll fight when she shows up and cuts me loose. I'll tear you apart." Sam snarled, blood again leaking from his nose, going unnoticed, as his face remained twisted in rage and his eyes blazed his hate for Dean loud and clear.

"Sammy, you don't know what you're saying. You have to fight her. Fight this. We can be okay."

"Don't you get it? Jeez, you really are pathetic Dean. I don't want _us_ to be okay. _I _want to be okay. I don't need you anymore. I don't want to be hurt by you anymore. I want to hurt you so you know how I feel. How I always feel! I hate you!" Sam strained against the bonds holding him tight to the point of pain. His eyes drifted closed and he shuddered. When the hazel orbs showed themselves again they were tear wet and apologetic.

"Dean, help me. I cant' fight …. It hurts. My brain wants to explode. All I hear is that buzzing. I'm going crazy! Please… help me."

"Sammy?" Dean questioned warily, too wrecked to fully believe that this was his baby brother, talking uninfluenced by the Fury's taint.

"Dean," Sam swallowed convulsively, "my hands hurt."

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm… I can't risk…" Dean let his voice trail off, heartbroken over that fact that he was too scared to bring his hurting brother some measure of relief.

Tears leaked from Sam's eyes. "I'm so sorry I hurt you Dean. I feel like I have no control. She's killing me. God," Sam sobbed, "my head. Dean, please?"

Dean reluctantly moved forward and slackened the ropes about Sam's left wrist a miniscule amount, desperate to bring his hurting brother some relief. The slack was almost nonexistent but it was enough. Sam's hand turned in the ropes and latched on to Dean's forearm with lightening quickness. He squeezed painfully, refusing to let go even as Dean jerked wildly against the grip.

Sam's features twisted and hardened; the mask of rage now fully in place. His left had was surprisingly strong because of the months spent compensating for the cast on his right wrist which had been removed just before this hunt. Dean cried out, struggling to break free of his brother's grip. "Add stupid and gullible to your list of sins, Dean. My puppy dog eyes and sobs have had you snowed my entire life. It was the only way I could get you to stop hurting me. What you call a conscience would kick in and you would slink off, feeling guilty about hurting me or using me for a punching bag. You'd try anything to make up for any discomfort I felt. Any thought for yourself flew right out of your head. Kind of surprising, given how dense you really are. Its no real wonder Dad left you after I went to Stanford. You were… are a waste of time."

"Shut up!" Dean cried, still trying to pull from Sam's grasp; his hand was now a mottled shade of red from the circulation being gradually cut off. Dean's phone began ringing. Sam smirked.

"_Judgment Day_, Dean? Kind of fits, don't you think? Do you feel like you're getting everything you deserve? Well, it's about to get better. She's here." The door to their room burst open, knocking the side table over. The Fury stood in the doorway, her blood red eyes glowing in the swirling darkness like two hot coals in a bed of ash. Snow blew into the room as the wind howled around her, chilling Dean to the bone. Sam's grip intensified and Dean felt his wrist bones grinding together. He gasped in pain.

The Fury leapt into the room, grabbing Dean by his throat, talons digging in deeply, and pressure cutting off his airway. Spots began to swim before his eyes when the Fury suddenly changed her tactic. Dean vaguely heard her raspy voice.

"No. I want Sam to punish you, the one responsible for all his hurt." She launched Dean backwards, growling, her wings spreading wide. Dean hit the wall, cracking the plaster as his back connected, painfully jarring his abused ribs.

"Uugh!" He cried out and fell to his knees, catching himself on his hands before pitching forward to face plant on the damp gray carpet. The Fury turned to Sam and used her talons to break the ropes that held him immobile. He sat up and again untied his feet; a sadistic smile planted on his scowl darkened features. His eyes were now bloodshot, nearly as red as those of the Fury. Dean raised his head to face Sam, his Sammy, who was now looming over him menacingly.

Sam raised his palm to his head, smacking himself roughly. The buzzing was drowning out everything from the howling storm to his own breathing._ I don't want to feel this way. I don't want to hurt you Dean. You don't deserve this. I've hurt you so much. I'm sorry. The buzzing is killing me. My head…it's on fire and I just can't fight it anymore._

"Sam-my?" Dean gasped out around his pain. "You're stronger than this."

_Buzzzz… buzz-buuuzzzzz. _It was incessant now, he was seeing red. The sound blocked out everything else. It felt like he had a colony of bees move into the space between his ears. He saw Dean, the bloody claw marks on his neck, blood steadily flowing down the front of his shirt, staining the black fabric an ugly brown. He saw Dean's labored breathing. He saw his mouth move but heard nothing but the buzz he was desperate now to stop. Then the Fury's voice broke through, stilling that awful sound.

"You know what you have to do Sam. You know how to make the pain he's put you through cease. Kill Sam, kill."

"Yes, I know what I have to do. I have to kill." Sam bent to the bag of weapons and retrieved a large hunting knife. It was one they used on hunts when they didn't know the vulnerability of what they were hunting. The ten inch blade was made of consecrated iron and razor sharp. Sam brandished the knife and stepped closer to Dean. The Fury stepped up behind him and watched, her snake-like hair writhing as if it had a life of its own. Sam looked down at Dean as he straightened, still remaining on his knees. He pleaded silently with his brother. Sam's eyes changed; for an instant going soft. Reminding him so much of his Sammy, who now seemed to be gone forever.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"I have to kill… you!" Sam whirled on the Fury and plunged the knife to the hilt into her chest, straight through her black, vengeance filled heart. The long blade protruded from her gray skinned back. She howled and grabbed Sam high on the chest, near the base of his throat. She buried her talons deeply, blood spurting and bones being exposed as skin and muscle was rendered by the razor like claws.

Sam screamed in agony but held fast to the knife as both he and the Fury slid to the carpet in a pool of mingling blood.

"Sam!" Dean screamed his misery as he saw the Fury's clawed hand tense, ripping further into his brother's chest before going limp. Sam coughed raggedly as Dean moved him from beneath the rapidly rotting corpse. "God, Sammy!" Dean quickly surveyed the damage and hurried to the table where the med kit lay. He returned seconds later and pressed sterile gauze to the spurting wound. The gauze soaked through immediately and Dean pressed more to it.

"De…" Sam gasped.

"Shhh… shhh. Stay quiet Sammy. Let me help you."

"Sorry." He coughed out, tears spilling from his eyes. Dean's own tears splashed on Sam's blood soaked t-shirt.

"No, no. Don't you ever be sorry. Just don't leave me." Dean pressed more gauze to the wound and struggled to hold fast with slippery fingers. He looked frantically around them for something else to use to stem the flow, since he'd just applied the last piece of gauze. He spied the sheet he'd ripped up to bind his broken ribs. It was a stretch to reach it that had his ribs protesting loudly, but he soon had the sheet balled up and pressed with all his strength to Sam's wound.

Sam's eyes closed and struggled to re-open as Dean stared on. "No Sammy, don't you give up on me. C'mon, you wake up. You fought that thing with everything you had, don't you let it win now."

"Tired." Sam whispered.

"I know buddy, but I… need you to stay with me. You heard my phone earlier. It was Bobby telling us he's gonna be here to help any minute. I know it. Dude, he's gonna kill you if you can't give him that patented Sam Winchester smile."

"He's … coming?" Sam struggled to ask.

"I know he is. Just hang on so you can see Bobby. He's gonna patch you up. You'll be good as new. You'll see." Dean vaguely heard a loud engine rumble outside the still open motel room door. His attention was locked on Sam's face, holding his pain filled gaze as if he could anchor him to this world. He begged Sam silently to hang on.

_Just stay… Sammy, just live for me. Stay with me. I can't live this life without you man. You're my world, all I have left. Don't go man." _

"Dean?! Sam?!" A voice yelled from outside the door, lost in the swirling snow. Hope surged through Dean's veins. _Bobby._

"Bobby!" Dean screamed, raising his head as the older hunter's form filled the doorway.

"Oh God, Dean. What the holy hell?!"

"Help Bobby! I can't get the bleeding slowed." Dean cried as he felt himself begin to mentally crumble, feeling his brother's life flow through his fingers, half a balled up full size sheet and seven pieces of gauze. Dean felt the warmth leave the room, his heart and soul, and Sam's body. Sam's warmth was the only visible departure as heat from his flowing blood ebbed into the cold in a cloud of steam.

Bobby quickly shut the broken door and righted the side table, firmly wedging it under the knob. He slid to his knees beside Dean. "Let me take a look."

"Trust me Bobby, its bad. An inch higher and the bitch woulda ripped out his throat. I can't get the freakin' bleeding stopped."

"I got my kit with me. Be right back. Keep pressure on that. Sam you stay with us, you hear me?"

Sam swallowed and blinked, trying to respond. Bobby fled the room and returned seconds later with the large med kit he'd stolen from an ambulance years ago when John had been badly injured by a Wendigo. Dean felt comforted by the sight of the large kit in Bobby's hands. _If anyone can save my brother, it's Bobby._

"Okay Dean when I say go, I want you to pull everything away from the wound. That thing's claws probably got an artery. I'm gonna have to clamp it off and stitch it up. Ready….Go!" Dean pulled the bloody mess away and Bobby quickly found the source of the intense bleeding, clamping it off with forceps, but not before blood spurted again, covering Dean's face and chest. He sobbed. Bobby pulled a battery operated suction device from the kit and drained most of the pooled blood from the wound so he could see the damage more clearly. Sam groaned and shuddered, trying to ignore the pain inflicted by the invasive tool.

"Dean, I need you to get a suture kit and get it ready." Dean did as he was told with no questions. "Okay, take over pressure on the forceps. I'll do the internal stitches."

Bobby shifted his hand on the scissor like handles of the forceps and Dean reached to take his place. Bobby released his pressure as Dean tightened his fingers, the blood flow remaining stemmed this time as Dean kept the clamp tight. Bobby began the miniscule stitches to close the gash in the artery. Sam groaned again.

Dean grimaced. "Bobby, can we give him a sedative or something for the pain?"

"Sorry, no. Not yet. Need him as alert as possible. This artery supplies his left arm. I have to get a feel on how the blood flows when we release that clamp, make sure there's no lasting damage. You hear me Sam Winchester? You suck it up and stay with us." Bobby's tone brooked no argument and Sam blinked and groaned again. Dean moved his bloodstained left hand to grip his brother's left one gently; his right retaining the grip on the forceps stemming the blood flow. Sam's fingers fluttered in his and Dean took heart in that tiny movement. Then he tightened his hand slightly. _They're cold. His fingers are really cold. That's a bad sign isn't it? No, no, no. Damage can't be too bad, he can move his fingers. He moved his fingers, he'll be fine. No damage._

"You hear Bobby, Sam? You just listen to Bobby." Dean pulled his hand from Sam's cold one and reached up to stroke his sweaty bangs back from his face. Sam closed his eyes and opened them again, this time focused solely on Dean.

"Okay Sam, I'm gonna remove the clamp and you gotta let us know how the arm feels." Sam nodded. Bobby took the forceps from Dean and eased pressure on the artery. Sam gasped and involuntarily arched his back as heat and agony invaded the limb. Dean broke through the pain tearing Sam apart, using soothing nonsense words and a gentle grip on the throbbing appendage that Sam so desperately wanted to rip off right now.

Dean looked at Bobby with relief in his eyes. "His hand is warming up. Good sign right?"

"Yeah, it is. Let's get him cleaned up and finish stitching him up. He needs blood bad though. How much did you lose?" Bobby asked as he noted the dried blood caking Dean's t-shirt.

"I'm fine. I can give him what he needs."

"Dee…" Sam said hoarsely, fidgeting some on the floor. He couldn't see his brother.

"Shh… right here. Not going anywhere." Dean comforted as his face loomed into view. Sam's eyes roamed Dean's features, as if searching for something. Locking eyes with Dean he found what he was looking for and stilled. His big brother was still with him. His world wasn't taken from him like he feared it was.

Hours later they had Sam stitched and sedated, resting on one of the beds. Dean was sharing the full size bed with his brother, a tube connecting them and giving badly needed Winchester blood from one to the other. Dean felt himself tiring. He glanced out the window to see that the snow had finally stopped, leaving everything blanketed with about sixteen inches.

He glanced at the older hunter sitting on the other bed watching their progress. "Bobby, how'd you make it through?"

"Stole a state plow truck just after I crossed the line." Bobby said as if it were something perfectly normal to do. Dean smiled and curled around Sam's still form on the bed, careful not to jostle the tube connecting them of his little brother. He closed his eyes and slept. Bobby pulled the needles and tube from the brothers' arms when Sam's color and breathing returned to some semblance of normal. He watched the boys for the rest of the night as they got much needed and deserved rest. Bobby wondered just how the hell he was gonna return the plow truck to its rightful owners.

He also wondered when he realized he'd gladly die to save the two remaining Winchesters, boys he'd come to think of as family. He cleaned up the motel room, bagging the dust that was all that remained of the corpse of the Fury, along with the bloody mess that makeshift surgery on Sam had created. When he had the room cleaned as best he could he, too, settled down to sleep; certain both boys were out of the woods.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The next morning Sam stirred on the bed, bringing a hand up to clasp Dean's, which rested on his shoulder, carefully away from his bandaged wound. His hand brushed Dean's forearm and his brother startled awake. He jumped off the bed as if Sam's touch had lit him on fire, before waking fully and realizing everything was over. An intense look of sadness crossed Sam's features as memories rushed back on Dean's reaction to his touch. _I don't blame him. He should be afraid of me. He should hate me._ _I hate myself for not being stronger, not fighting harder to avoid hurting Dean._ Tears leaked from Sam's eyes, and he knew he had to say something, _anything,_ to ease Dean's suffering.

"Dean?" Sam's voice sounded foreign and raspy to his ears. Bobby was awake at Deans' fast movement and gave him a look as Dean shrank back to stand a few feet from the bed. Well out of Sam's reach even if he wasn't too weak to move. Bobby's eyes shot from Sam's teary, sad features to Dean's shell-shocked ones. _Just what the hell did that thing put these boys through?_

Bobby decided to break the silence as he stood from the bed, moving the short distance to Sam's side. He eased down, careful not to jar Sam. "How ya feelin', kid?"

"Sore." Sam said trying to make his voice sound normal while struggling to stop the tears that flowed. "A little thirsty." Bobby stood from the bed and started to move towards the bathroom. Dean shook his head and went in himself, returning to Sam's side with a glass of cool water and a straw from the basket by the coffeemaker. Bobby moved away and let Dean give Sam the water, noticing Dean's struggle to keep his hands from shaking.

"Sam, do you have any pain?" Bobby asked, again breaking the tense silence that reigned.

"Not really." He managed after swallowing some water. He sounded normal now, if maybe a little weak. "Can I sit up some?" he asked Bobby.

"Don't see why not. Just until you get tired though. I don't want you slouchin' and pullin' those stitches."

Bobby pulled a pillow from the other bed and waited until Dean eased Sam upright. He put the pillow behind Sam's head and fluffed the other one some. Dean settled Sam back and moved to pull away. Sam stopped him with a gentle hand.

"Dean, please. We need to talk." Sam said quietly.

"I know we do." Dean replied, glancing at Bobby.

"I'm gonna get rid of the plow truck and get us some breakfast. Looks like the crews have the roads cleaned up." Bobby shrugged into his coat and left the room as Dean moved behind him to wedge the table back beneath the doorknob, sealing Sam and him together, alone. Dean couldn't help the fear that moved through him. He hated that feeling and became determined to work through it. He moved back to the beds and sat on the empty one, facing Sam. He rested his elbows on his thighs and raised his eyes from the floor to meet Sam's gaze.

"Sammy…" He started. Sam interrupted him.

"Dean, no. Let me talk, please." Dean swallowed and nodded, falling silent.

Sam swallowed hard and said, "I know I scared you. I can tell by the way you're almost afraid to get within arms reach. I can see you're struggling to get past it quickly, but it's okay if it takes a while. I want you to know that."

"Sam, I…"

"No, Dean. When I woke up this morning I felt you near me. Your hand was on my shoulder and you were sleeping. I half expected you to be gone, to have left me because of what I did to you. I hurt you. I might not have been able to control what I did or said, but _I _said them _I _did them and I know the words hurt, as much as the actions. That's what they do. Words hurt. We've both been on the receiving end of that more than once. I just never thought I could do something like that to you." Sam struggled with the next words. "I hurt you and I don't deserve another chance but I'm asking you to give me one, begging you…" tears leaked from his eyes, "…man, you're my big brother. Please don't leave me. I don't think I could take it." He trailed off again, his tear wet hazel eyes searching Dean's green ones for what he so desperately needed to see.

"Okay Sam. Now it's my turn to talk. You just listen." Dean moved from his bed to where Sam was propped up on the other one. "I am your big brother. I am as much to blame for what happened to us as you are, and that is none at all. I picked that fight with you and it was stupid, taking a chance on going out in that snow. I did remember what happened in Montana all those years ago, but what I remembered most was the worry on your face the first time I woke up and couldn't feel my hands or feet. Then I got the fever, and Dad said you sat by me and fought to break that fever non-stop for the five days it took to bring it down.

I shouldn't have left you like that, with you sick. I have to live with that now and I _will_, but what I _won't_ live with is you blaming yourself for what happened. It is no more your fault than mine. It was that _thing_ and she is history. It's over, and we are brothers. We'll always be brothers and _we_ are all we have. I'm not gonna leave you and I'm not gonna lose you." Dean sighed and met Sam's eyes, blinking back the tears that threatened. "We're goin' to Bobby's for a few days to let you rest."

"You need it, too."

"Yeah."

"So we're gonna be alright?" Sam asked in a whisper, also struggling to keep the tears from flowing.

Dean put his arm around Sam's shoulders and squeezed gently, still mindful of the grievous injury to his chest. "Little brother, we're always alright." Dean said with a smile.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

A/N: So there it is people, my 21st fic. Please hit the little purple button people! Let me know what you think. Thanks to all.

Kris.


End file.
